I would do anything for Junior and Veronica.
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes, would that work for you?”
“Actually, that’ll work perfectly. I really appreciate you taking time out of your day for this. Is four okay?”
“Yeah, that’ll do.”
“Wonderful. Thank you again. I’ll see you then.” Her voice was pleasant, and would have been saccharinely sweet if it weren’t for the slight rasp in it. Junior had never said anything negative about her, and he was fairly perceptive for his age, so I had a feeling she would tell me if he was awful.
“See you then.”
She ended the call, and I stared at my phone screen, feeling like a failure. I thought I was handling things, but clearly I wasn’t if his teacher felt the need to contact me.
Damn it.
Just when I thought I was settling into a new normal, something came along to remind me that I couldn’t get anything right. Whether it was picking a beta who would eventually betray me in the most horrific way possible, going on that stupid hunt, or taking care of my kids, somehow I always came up short.
All I wanted was to make sure my children thrived, and I would do whatever I had to do to make sure they grew up as best they could despite the bloodbath that stained all of our memories. So teacher meetings were the least I could do.
So why did it feel so heavy in my gut?
“Hi,I’d like to sign in,” I told the secretary in the office. It was vaguely familiar, as I’d been here a couple of times with my wife when she was interviewing different schools, but it was on the cusp of my memory. If I was being honest, I often had trouble recalling things that happened before the massacre. Especially certain things so intrinsically linked to my love’s plans for the future—a future that would never be. It was as if my brain was trying to protect me from those echoes, but try as it might, the ghostly visages of those I loved were always waiting in the wings, flashing through the corner of my vision more often than not.
“Of course, and what’s the reason for your visit?”
“Parent-teacher conference with Miss Fischbacher.” I probably sounded nervous, which made sense, since I was. It had only been one day since I’d gotten the call, but I had been inmy head about it ever since I hung up. I knew it wasn’t healthy, but I couldn’t quite help myself.
“Ah, Mr. Poynter! It’s good to see you again! How are you holding up, given everything?”
Dideveryoneknow about what had happened? We’d moved into the suburbs, far away from our pack lands and any other wolf shifters I knew, to get away from the story. We’d tried to keep it as hush-hush as we could in our community, but unfortunately a massacre like that was impossible to keep completely silent. Some of it had leaked to the news. Not as a major story, but certainly one people tended to remember if they had seen the four-minute segment on it or read about it.
I supposed I couldn’t blame them. I would also remember such a tragedy if I saw it on the news. But it felt so invasive because it was my life. And my son’s. And my daughter’s. And Natalie’s too.
Ugh. Sometimes it felt soinescapable.
“As best we can.”
“Of course, of course. I don’t mean to be nosy.” Yes, she did, but I couldn’t begrudge her natural curiosity. It was a very human thing. “Do you know where you need to go?”
Did I? I had to pause for a moment and rack my brain. After a beat or so, I realized I had absolutely no idea where my son’s classroom was. I could still recall the path to his kindergarten room, but he was a first-grader now.
Damn, that was a disheartening realization. When had I become so… distracted? Junior and Veronica were my whole world, but if they were, why was I suddenly so out of my depth?
“Uh no, I don’t think so,” I said finally.
“No worries. I’m more than happy to walk you there. It’ll help me get my steps in.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
“Think nothing of it, really.”
Despite the awkward foot we’d started on, I appreciated the secretary’s candor. She chattered at me about different things about the school as we walked, and I made sure to nod at the appropriate times. I was only half listening, however, as my mind was fully on the meeting coming up.
Maybe I would have felt a little better if Benny was walking with me, but he’d stayed behind after class for convenience. Not that I needed my son by my side to be confident, but technically, I was in his territory.
“Here you are,” the secretary chorused before knocking on the door. “Hope you have a great evening. You can go right in.”
